Shit.

“Relax,” Gray whispered, his hand stroking my hair.

I felt disgusting after a day spent hibernating in the library like a hermit. Of course, he looked gorgeous in a green sweater and dark jeans, smelling faintly of cedar and spice.

He held me against him, his body propping me up in the face of the exhaustion seeping through my bones. He kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. I relaxed. He didn’t talk, didn’t do anything but let me lean on him.

His heart beat against my cheek, the steady thump lulling me into a deeper sense of calm. My lips brushed against his shirt, fighting the urge to press against the beat there.

I lost.

His chest jerked as I put my mouth to it, his cotton sweater between my lips and his heart. He shuddered. I waited for him to move away, wondering if I’d pushed things too far, too fast. His arm came around me, holding me tighter, crushing me against his body.

Minutes passed while we stood like that, and then we both seemed to pull back at the same time, and his hand threaded through my hair, massaging my scalp, and his head bent, his mouth meeting me halfway, his lips pressing against mine softly, his mouth coaxing me to open.

It was a completely different kiss from all the ones we’d shared before. It was soft, slow, lazy. It was sweet. He kissed me like he knew I didn’t have it in me for passion, that I needed his easy caress to soothe my frazzled parts.

It was the best kind of kiss—the one I needed—and my heart tumbled even further in love.

Gray

She looked like she could barely stand. I remembered those days, the feeling that you’d pushed your ability to exist on limited sleep and junk food to the brink. The feeling that your mind couldn’t possibly expand to accommodate one more piece of information.

I’d brought the coffee because I’d figured she needed it. The kiss had been a bonus. A big one.

I kissed her with all of the softness I had inside me—whatever little amount was left or had ever existed at all—giving her all the feelings that had come rushing through me the second she’d touched her mouth to my heart. Each time I saw her, she gifted me something new, some part of herself that I wanted to protect.

Each time I saw her she pulled me deeper.

I released her, grabbing the coffee off the desk and handing it back to her, my fingers linking with hers for a moment.

A smile played at her lips.

“Caffeine and kisses, huh? Is that the secret to getting through your first semester of law school finals?”

I grinned. Even rumpled and exhausted, she looked adorable. Her face was free of makeup, her hair in a messy bun, her clothes more casual than any I’d seen her wear, and she still looked stunning.

“Best method I could think of.” I gave her the rest, because I didn’t want to keep screwing with her head. She’d accused me of being afraid of going after what I wanted, and she hadn’t been wrong.

Not anymore.

The semester was almost over, and then she wouldn’t be my student anymore. Maybe I didn’t deserve her, but I couldn’t pass up a chance to have her.

“I want to see where this goes.”

Blair blinked. “Where what goes?”

“Us.”

“So getting off the fence means you want to date.”

“I want a chance with you. I wish we’d met differently, wish we could date like normal people, but obviously things are complicated. For the sake of your law school career and my job, I think we should keep things quiet for a while.”

“Okay.”

“Just until this year is over. When my teaching contract ends, us dating won’t be as big of a deal. But right now, I’m worried that it could be an issue if people find out.”

Not to mention my worries that my reputation would affect her.

“I understand.”

“And I think we should take things slowly,” I added.

She made a face. “Are you still worried you’re going to hurt me?”

I didn’t know how to explain it to her. I wanted to be good for her. Wanted to be the kind of guy who deserved to be with a girl like her. I didn’t know if I would ever get there, if I was even capable of that, but I knew I was a little bit better than I’d been the month before, and better than the month before that. All I could do was hope that time would get me where I needed to be. Or at least close enough.

I had difficulty swallowing over the lump in my throat.

“I don’t want the mistakes I’ve made to spill over onto you. I don’t want to fuck this up the way I’ve fucked up other things in my life. So yeah, I want to take things slow. You deserve a good guy. Let me try to be that guy for you. I can’t promise you that I’ll ever be the guy who deserves you, but I can promise that I’ll try. And that I’d sooner cut off my arm than hurt you.”

Blair

I didn’t know how to make him understand that I didn’t necessarily want him to be a good guy or even a better guy. I wanted him to be himself. So far the version he’d given me, despite the way he spun it, was pretty fucking great.

I leaned up on my toes, putting my mouth to his again, the taste of coffee and Gray filling me. He leaned in, wrapping one arm around my waist, holding me to his body like I belonged there.

I almost blurted out how I felt about him, almost gave him the words, but if I’d learned anything, it was that you couldn’t force Graydon Canter’s hand. He wasn’t a boy; he was a man, stubborn as hell and more than a little set in his ways. Luckily for me, I knew a thing about stubborn, and if I had to wait him out, I’d do it.

He was worth the wait.

We broke apart again and he sat down in the chair across from mine, motioning for me to sit in his lap. A spark of heat flickered through the exhaustion, but then he tugged on my hand and enfolded me on his lap, wrapping his arms around me, my back cuddled against his front. I’d had sexy with him and it was freaking amazing, but sweet was something else entirely. Sweet was a slow burn that reduced my resolve to ash.

Maybe it was because everything about him screamed sex, but the sweet was like a hidden surprise. You had to dig for it, but once you got it . . .

I doubted he did sweet with many people; given the way he’d described his life, it sounded like there hadn’t been much room for softness. I loved that he gave it to me.

“How’s studying going?” he murmured, his lips tickling my ear.

I shivered. “I want to stab myself in the eye with my highlighter, but otherwise fine.”

“Which class?”

“Con law.”

Fucking Commerce Clause.

“How long is it?”

I didn’t even have to ask what “it” was. That was the standard law school outline question.

“Seventy pages single-spaced, heading toward one hundred.”

That was one semester of con law synthesized.

“Did he tell you anything about the exam?”

“Three fact patterns. Three hours. No idea what he’s going to focus on.”

“Did he give you guys a review session?”

“Yeah. I went, and it was okay. He didn’t take any questions, but he hit the high points. I think I’m just nervous since this is my first exam.”

“Have you done a practice exam?”

I had. The only thing worse than taking a three-hour final was taking a three-hour practice exam and then taking a three-hour final.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I didn’t fail miserably, but it wasn’t great.”

“You’ll be fine.”

My brow furrowed. “What if I’m not?”

I couldn’t keep the doubt out of my voice, not with him.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Failing at this, too.”

He shifted me on his lap so that our gazes locked. “What else do you think you failed at?” he asked, his voice soft.

I shook my head, knowing how crazy I sounded. “It’s stupid. I know it wasn’t my fault that things didn’t work out with Thom. I know it, and I still can’t help feeling like there was something wrong with me. Being an asset to my father’s campaign was my job. And I sort of screwed it up.”